I Can't Believe It's Not Butter
by Her Sweetness
Summary: [Oneshot] Otogi's all out of hair care products and so he's inlisted Tristan to cure his bad hair day. Bad idea, Otogi. [TristanxOtogi, mentioned KaibaxJoey] [Birthday fic for Claire!]


Her Sweetness: A birthday fic for Claire! Man, I've been writing _a lot_ today, but it's good! Practice makes perfect, right? Enjoy, Claire and everyone else!

…

I Can't Believe It's Not Butter:

Otogi frowned as he looked on his dresser and saw that his hair care products were diminishing fast. He'd gone to five parties in the past two weeks and every time he'd used like half a can of top-of-the-line hairspray and at least 75 of his _Slutty Poodle Hair Gel_.

But now he had a problem.

There was another party tonight that he was expected to go to, but he didn't have enough to properly fix his hair. And he just _couldn't_ go out of the house looking like this. But, normally, all the necessary fixings would cost fifty dollars and he only had ten.

"Oh…" He sighed, propping his head up with his hands, "Curse my partying ways… How am I supposed to get ready when I only have enough money for some cheap bottle of hair treatment?"

He frowned again and got up from his seat, heading down the hallway and towards the front door, "Though, I guess cheap is better than nothing…"

Just as Otogi had grabbed his purse and was opening the door, Tristan was on the porch, reaching for the doorbell but stopped when he saw Otogi in the doorway.

"Hey! I was just gonna ring the doorbell."

"I can see that. Why don't you use the key I gave you?"

"…" Tristan shuffled his feet, "I… ah, lost it in a poker game with Joey…"

"… You _bet_ the house key and lost?"

"Only a little."

Otogi felt that he was getting more confused by the second, but decided to dismiss it and waved his hand to the side, "Well, Tristan, make yourself at home, but I have to go to the store."

Tristan ducked under the other teen's arm and made his way into the living room, but before Otogi could go out the door, Tristan asked, "What're you going for?"

"Hair stuff."

He groaned, "Don't you already _have_ hair things?"

"Well, obviously I don't have enough!" Otogi put his hands on his hips, leaning up against the door, "Besides there's a party I'm going to tonight and I look a hot mess."

"You look good to me."

Otogi blushed, "Thanks." He turned around, "But I still have to go, so-"

"Aw, c'mon! You're always going out. And I came over here to see you, not your house. Stay here." Tristan sounded almost as if he was whining, but that didn't seem to matter much as he continued on, "And besides, you don't need one of those expensive treatments you're always buying. I can do your hair just fine."

The raven-haired boy almost choked on his gum. "W-What?"

"It's true! I know what to do, just give me the chance and you'll look better than you ever have."

"Tristan, that's ridiculous."

"No, it isn't. C'mon, what have you got to lose?"

"My dignity, my looks, my very way of life… need I go on?"

When all Tristan did was sit on the couch and give Otogi a half-pout, half-upset expression, Otogi sighed and shut the door, setting down his purse on the counter. "Fine, Tristan. I'll let you do my hair. But, if you mess up my gorgeous locks, I'll--"

Tristan smirked and led his boyfriend by the hand over to the couch where he sat him down and patted him on the head, "Don't worry about it! I'll be right back with my _I Can't Believe It's Not Butter Hair Gel_!"

"… Butter?"

As soon as Otogi turned his head around, Tristan had already gone off into the kitchen and sounds of the refrigerator door and cabinets opening could be heard. Otogi sighed, "Why do I agree to these things…?"

Back in the kitchen, Tristan was looking around desperately for anything to make hair gel out of. He didn't really have an _I Can't Believe It's Not Butter Hair Gel_. That was something he made up on the spot to keep Otogi from going anywhere. It was quiet sad that he got so lonely, but Joey was off doing something with Kaiba and so there he was.

"Let's see… Um… Damn, well what am I supposed to use for hair gel?" He asked himself, going through the fridge. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a small, white tub of marmalade. He shrugged and pulled it out.

Tristan had been at Otogi's house thousands of times, so he knew the boy's kitchen quite well. Reaching into the bottom cabinet, he grabbed a large white bowl and, while setting it on the counter, he opened the marmalade and dumped it all in. Opening the fridge with his foot, he smiled at finding a carton of milk that was two months over its expiration date.

He cringed, "Gross! Otogi's gonna be sick if he drinks this… Better throw it in!" He said before depositing the chunky and sour milk into the bowl with the marmalade.

Over the next five minutes, Tristan had thrown soda, blue cheese, crotons, egg whites and some already-in-the-trash-can bubblegum into that mixture. When he was done, he mixed it with a big spoon and wiped the sweat from his brow.

"Hmm… I dunno if this looks too good…"

"Tristan!" Came a distant call from the living room, "Where are you?"

"Um, right here! I'm coming!"

Grabbing the bowl and the spoon, Tristan came into the living room and saw Otogi still sitting on the couch, and now watching T.V. He tilted his head up, "You have your hair gel?"

"Sure do!" He smiled, jiggling the bowl.

Otogi looked suspicious, "What's in it…?"

"… Aha, never you mind, Otogi, dearest. It's a family secret. Can't have it getting out, might end up written on a bathroom wall."

"_Right_…"

"Alright, so sit up and take your ponytail out." Tristan instructed and though Otogi was still wary of that bowl in his hand, he did as he was told and soon Tristan was using the spoon to smear the concoction all over the teen's hair.

In the middle of it, Otogi asked, "Tristan, this smells kinda weird… What do you have in it?"

"Nothing. Just relax." He answered nonchalantly and rubbed it into Otogi's scalp.

Afterwards, when Tristan made sure his hair gel covered every inch of Otogi's head, he ordered the boy to go take a shower and rinse it out, then after that, he put another light coating of it on.

This process took about twenty minutes and Otogi wore a towel over his eyes through most of it. In a second, Tristan wiped his hands off on his jeans and said, proudly, "Done!"

"… Really? Lemme see, Tristan!" Otogi whined, clawing at the towel.

Tristan smirked and took it off of him and as soon as he was free of it, Otogi went racing for his bedroom mirror and when he got in there, Tristan heard a: 'Wow!'

He decided to go in and see how he liked it. His head peeked inside the door and he saw Otogi looking at it in a mirror, "Tristan! This looks so great! It really does! My hair's so shiny and smooth looking!"

"Heh! See? And you doubted me!"

"Yeah, I'm sorry; I'll never doubt you again! You can do my hair anytime!"

They stood there for a moment, smiling at each other before both their hands flew up to their noses and they choked at the same time, "Oh my god! What the hell is that smell!"

Tristan coughed and pointed to Otogi's head, "Guh! I-It's your hair; it smells like a dead rodent!"

"Eek!" Otogi gasped, running his hands through his hair and then sniffing them, immediately turning away with disgust, "EW! It is my hair! Tristan, what did you put in that hair gel?"

Tristan thought then scratched the back of his head, "Um… well, just stuff you didn't need in your kitchen… like that milk… some blue cheese… marmalade--"

"Tristan!" He cried out in disbelief, "You didn't! Those things were _stale_! I was going to throw them out today! Ohhhh… This is terrible! It'll take me forever to wash out this smell and the party starts in ten minutes! Now I won't be able to go…!"

When Otogi sat down on the bed, overcome with distress, Tristan felt a twinge of guilt. He walked over and patted him on the back, "Well, what's so wrong with that? You can stay here, you don't _have_ to go to a party, you know."

"But I _love_ to party…"

"And I _love_ people who don't smell like dead rodents, but I'm willing to stay with you."

"… Alright. Fine." Otogi sighed and, instead of going out to a party, he spent the rest of the night with Tristan watching movies and talking. But, of course, Tristan had to borrow Joey's gasmask, just so he wouldn't keel over.

Owari—

Her Sweetness: Happy 18th birthday, Claire. And to the rest of you, REVIEW, please.


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